“And how would you like to go aloft and take in sail during a storm?” asked Mr. Newcombe.
“I wouldn’t care!” was the answer. “I wouldn’t do it long. I’d soon be captain.”
If Tom once got an idea into his head, no matter how ridiculous it was, he clung to it, and stubbornly refused to be convinced that it was impracticable. This notion of his, that he could soon learn enough about seamanship and navigation to be intrusted with the management of a vessel, was one of his pet ideas; and if all the sailors in the world had endeavored to show him that the thing was impossible, he would still have held firmly to his opinion. Mr. Newcombe had often tried to convince his son of his error, and he had discovered that there was but one way to do it, and that was to let Tom learn in the hard school of experience. A few months at sea would drive all such improbable ideas out of his head.
“Very well,” said the merchant, picking up his paper. “That’s all, Tom!”
“O, no, it isn’t, father! Why don’t you tell me whether or not I may go. Say! Say!”
But Mr. Newcombe, who appeared to be deeply interested in his paper, took no further notice of him; and Tom, vexed and disappointed, picked up his cap, went out of the house, and walked up and down the lawn. The shouts that now and then came to his ears, told him that the Night-hawks still held possession of the common, and Tom had half a mind to go down and join them. But he knew, by the way his father spoke, that he had some idea of allowing him to go to sea, and he did not wish to destroy, by an act of disobedience, all the bright hopes he had so long cherished, and which he imagined could be realized if he was permitted to ship as cabin-boy on some vessel.
“I always wanted to go to sea,” said Tom to himself, as he walked impatiently up and down the lawn; “and I’d like to know why I can’t go as well as any body? I wonder why father didn’t tell me what he is going to do about it? What good does it do to plague a fellow this way? Now, if I can go out in the Savannah, I’ll certainly learn enough to be second mate by the time we get home; then, after that, I’ll be first mate, and then captain. Then, if a war should break out, I would go into the navy, and I might be promoted to captain of a man-o’-war. Wouldn’t that be glorious!”
Tom became amazed when he saw what a bright prospect was suddenly opened up before him, and he resolved that he would not allow his father a moment’s rest until he had obtained his permission to go to sea on the Savannah.
Before he went to sleep that night, Tom had made up what he regarded as an unanswerable argument, which he intended to present for his father’s consideration in the morning. But he was saved that trouble; for, at the breakfast table, Mr. Newcombe informed him that he had decided to allow him to go to sea on the Savannah; at the same time giving him advice which, had he seen fit to follow it, would have made him a better and wiser boy, and would have saved him a great deal of trouble. Tom was in ecstasies. He made the most extravagant promises in regard to good behavior and prompt obedience of orders, and repeatedly assured his father that he was “cut out” for a sailor, and that it would not be long before he would be the master of a fine vessel.
“Don’t build your hopes too high on that, Tom,” said Mr. Newcombe. “Do your duty faithfully as boy, and don’t waste your time in dreaming about being a captain; for that can only come after years of hard work.”